


bonnie and clyde

by pacificnewt



Category: Heathers (1988)
Genre: F/M, jd finds them, these are the events that ensue, uhhh chandler murders duke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 10:16:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pacificnewt/pseuds/pacificnewt
Summary: Red was, and always had been, Heather Chandler’s color.





	bonnie and clyde

**Author's Note:**

> this is the product of serial killer by lana del rey i’m sorry class

Red was, and always had been, Heather Chandler’s color.

Whether she was strutting the halls of Westerburg High in bright red heels, tying her hair up with a dark red hair tie, or kissing and telling with her cherry red lips, Heather never left a mark if it wasn’t red in color.

She enjoyed the trademark. It was comforting to her, in a way; she had her color that nobody else would touch. Heather would wear it any way that she possibly could unabashedly and with pride.

Of all the options, however, she least expected to be stained in a crimson shade while hovering over her former friend’s newly lifeless body.

It was odd. Heather supposed that after doing such a thing most people would be panicked, and reasonably so, but she was calm. She looked at her handiwork with about as much expression as a stagnant pond and coolly flicked her eyes between the victim and her hands. She curled her lips in a distorted half-smile at the way her nail polish blended with her incriminating hands.

Heather pushed a loose curl out of her face and swung Heather Duke’s legs over the edge of her bathtub. _Finally_. She huffed, relieved to have the mess in a place that wasn’t her bathroom floor. Duke’s slashed throat continued to gush, though no longer rhythmically with the last beatings of her heart and rather on its own time. Her blood spilled all over her green blazer and plaid skirt only to pool at the bottom of the tub. It seeped menacingly down further, further toward the drain. Heather stood to wash her hands.

She scoffed at her reflection in the mirror. As much as she loved red, she frowned at the splatters of it across her chest, up her neck and onto her face. It was distasteful and messy. Heather didn’t like messy.

After starting to run the hot water, unbeknownst to her, a familiar head poked its way up past Heather’s window. It scanned her bedroom cautiously, and then an eyebrow raised when it detected nothing. The window was pried open, and Jason Dean hoisted himself into the Chandler house.

Heather groaned as soon as she started trying to scrub herself clean. God, the mess. The heat felt nice on her skin and what had been dried began to rub off. She wrinkled her nose at seeing the diluted blood drip from her fingers. While she did so, her visitor sat waiting.

Jason figured if he waited long enough Heather would show. He could hear the water running in her bathroom and saw the light on behind the closed bathroom door. She was probably washing her makeup off or something, he guessed, and he sprawled himself out across her bed, bored. His eyes studied the scenery of Heather’s room, though he’d seen it dozens of times. This time was different. This time something was off. Jason noticed a red fluid leaking from behind the closed door onto Heather’s carpet. He jumped to his feet and invited himself into the bathroom, much to both of their dismay.

Perhaps it was Jason’s fault for not knocking, or Heather’s for not locking the door. None of the circumstances were important as soon as Heather’s crime had been discovered.

Heather instantly whipped her head around and began to scream. Jason’s hand found its way to her mouth, covering it and subsequently muffling the noise beneath it. His eyes widened at the realization her clothes were soaked in blood. Jason turned his head to see the dead girl in her tub and his hand fell away. 

“What the hell have you been up to?”

“J.D.,” Heather started, voice breaking. Jason turned to her again with a rather unreadable expression. Her tone was caught between a million and one things: worried yet unsuspecting; scared yet calm. Just like Heather Duke had been. “Why are you here?”

“Why am _I_ here?” Jason gestured to Heather’s work. “Why is _she_ here? Why’s her throat cut open?”

Heather frowned and turned back to washing her hands. “It was a long time coming,” she muttered under her breath.

“Heather!” Jason took her by the hand, eyes wide with what she guessed to be disbelief. “What the hell happened?”

She pulled her hand away and gave him a cold look. “I’d had enough, that’s what happened.”

He still seemed shocked, and she couldn’t discern why.

“Why are you of all people looking at me like that right now? Are you mad or something?”

Jason blinked and shook his head. “Why would I be mad?” He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and leaned himself up against the door after shutting it behind him. “I’m not mad.”

“What are you, then?” Heather got back to scrubbing.

A missed beat of silence fell between them. “Impressed,” Jason said at last, and his usual demeanor returned. “Shit, I knew you wanted her dead, but I didn’t think you’d do it yourself, Cherry. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Nobody else was gonna do it,” Heather mumbled. 

Jason smiled in amusement. “Did you plan this or somethin’? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You’d have made it messy,” Heather said without haste.

He almost looked offended. He glanced at the bloodstained floor and grinned condescendingly. “Couldn’t have been a bigger mess than the one you’ve already made here, babe.”

She grimaced. “Shut up. You can still help.”

“Oh, you’ll let me stab a knife back in the wound and pretend I contributed? I’m honored.”

“No, fuckass,” Heather rolled her eyes. “I’m not done yet here. I can’t keep her in my bathtub forever.”

Jason crossed his arms and gave her his infamous look he gave when he was entertained. “I see. So let me get this straight: you were going to finally get the revenge you’ve always wanted, make me do your dirty work, and get off scot-free?”

“You think _that’s_ the dirty work? Look at me!”

“You look good covered in blood,” Jason whistled. Heather hit him on the arm and he flinched.

“Now’s not the time to take your dick out, Romeo. Are you gonna help me take care of this or not?”

Jason bit his lip and sighed. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, is it?”

Heather started to splash water in her face, and Jason leaned over the tub and crinkled his face. “It looks like fuckin’ Christmas.”

She had to stop herself from giggling. “What are you gonna do with her?”

“What am _I_ gonna do? You’re helping me. I’ll leave that up to you.”

Heather stopped the water and thought for a moment. “The lake?”

Jason shook his head. “The police will find her eventually.”

“Mm. Let’s just bury her.”

“I know I’m sure as hell not digging a six-foot hole. Try again.”

Heather frowned as Jason snaked his arms around her waist. “Didn’t you say once you did something like this back in Baton Rouge? What’d you do then?” She put her hands on his shoulders.

“That was different.” Jason pursed his lips and shrugged nonchalantly.

Heather raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

“Just was.”

“Unfair!” Heather hit his chest and pouted. “You’re not helping.”

“You,” Jason started while he poked her nose, “got us into this mess. It’s on you to get us out of it.”

“Us?” Heather’s lips turned up in a devilish-looking smile.

“‘Course, princess. Now we’re like Bonnie and Clyde.”

“I don’t think Bonnie and Clyde killed anybody, Einstein.”

“I thought I was Romeo.” Jason smirked. “That’s why we’re better than Bonnie and Clyde. We can handle getting dirty.”

“Dirty?” Heather tugged on Jason’s collar. He lifted her bridal style and nudged his head toward the problem on their hands.

“Not now, honey,” he said in a comically high voice. “There’s company.”

They both burst into laughter and shared a hard kiss while Jason carried her out of the bathroom.


End file.
